


i'm waiting for death (but it never comes)

by caydiink (gayleb)



Series: feeling alive (isn't as good as it sounds) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet, But also, But not forever, Character Death, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Immortality, Insanity, Not Beta Read, Time Loop, Time Travel, but not really, but really poorly written aha, kinda lmao, like yes they die, mans snaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayleb/pseuds/caydiink
Summary: Dream loved his friends. In a world where nothing was permanent, Dream didn’t hold anything close to his chest, knowing it would never last.But, looking at the people he had brought together, the people he considered family, Dream knew if he could die for them, he would.That was the problem.Dream knew that nothing good lasts forever. No matter how much he longed for it, he could never keep them.AKA part two to my Immortal!Dream fic, you don't Have to have read it, but it would probably help with the Lore and shit. Dream realizes nothing good lasts forever, including his friends, and he does anything he can to stop death from taking them. It doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Karl Jacobs, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: feeling alive (isn't as good as it sounds) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115975
Comments: 40
Kudos: 514





	i'm waiting for death (but it never comes)

**Author's Note:**

> hey nae, this one is for you ;) thank you for suggesting i write part 2 <3333 hope u enjoy my first fic w/ major character death tagged!!!

Dream loved his friends. In a world where nothing was permanent, Dream didn’t hold anything close to his chest, knowing it would never last.

But, looking at the people he had brought together, the people he considered family, Dream knew if he could die for them, he would.

That was the problem.

Dream knew that nothing good lasts forever. No matter how much he longed for it, he could never keep them.

He would be doomed to watch them all fade away, just out of reach as he stands by, withering before him as Dream lives on.

_(Dream didn’t know how many times he could do this. How many times he could watch everything he worked for torn from his grasp, forced to start anew._

_But what could he do? He was stuck, surrounded by humans he could never save, unable to return to the gods he had never loved, forced to wander aimlessly for eternity._

_How was a man who couldn’t die supposed to live, when any will had been sucked dry?_

_How was Dream supposed to go on, witnessing the death he would never get to have?)_

For the first time in decades, Dream had felt safe, there in Bad’s arms, sobbing into his neck. Dream felt like the horrors of reality couldn’t touch him there, and that maybe, just maybe, _this time_ would be better.

He helped fix what he had broken, accepted into the arms of his friends, someone always there waiting to catch him when he stumbled, the road to recovery never smooth.

But despite all of his best efforts, no matter how much he prayed, or hoped, or begged, they still grew up.

Dream watched as they all got older, Tommy and Tubbo going from the awkward, lanky teens they had been to young adults, years passing by before he could process it.

His friends grew up without him, Dream staying the same throughout the years, never aging, never growing. Forever Dream.

They reassured him. They promised him they wouldn’t stop trying, that they wouldn’t leave Dream. But he saw it in their eyes.

He saw the way they looked at him with pity. They looked him in the eyes, whispered promises of family, of staying with him, and they lied.

Dream knew. He knew each time they told him that it would never come true. But Dream was naive and hopeless, and he just wanted something to believe him. One shred of hope in the downward spiral his life had become.

There was no stopping time. It took and it took and Dream was powerless to stop it. He watched his friend’s die, one by one, and he could do nothing but stand at their graves and weep.

Empty promises laid on deaf ears as he yelled. He raged at their graves, screaming at how they had promised, they told him they would never leave. They told him they loved him.

They fucking lied.

It was something else he had learned about humanity, early on in his journey.

Everyone lied, not even the gods were above it.

His nails dug into the loose dirt sat before him, clawing at the earth as if maybe, if he dug deep enough, he could find the friends he had lost like so many before them, and bring them back for even just a moment.

Dream shook, trembling hands gripping his arms with dirt stained fingers, blood mixing with the soil as he knelt there, a mockery of the worship he had once been shown readily.

There was nothing left to worship, any semblance of power stripped away with each friend he failed to save, torn from his title as they had been torn from the earth.

* * *

George had been the first to go.

He was still young, for a human. Only just reached his early thirties, before one mis-step on a mountain, as he travelled to a nearby village, sent him and his future over the edge.

They had never found his body, lost to the abyss it had fallen into, left to rot between the stones as Dream could do nothing but watch.

Dream clung to Sapnap and Bad at the funeral, unable to contain the sobs that were long overdue, weeping openly at the loss of his family, one life taken too soon.

They told him it would be okay. They would make it through, they always did.

Dream didn’t want to think about when he would be the last one left, no one to walk down this road with, no hand to hold as he knelt at their graves and begged.

But for now, Dream could bury his face in Bad’s neck, and grab Sapnap’s hand in his, pulling him closer in an attempt to shield him from everything the universe threw at them.

It wouldn’t matter, it never did.

But he could pretend that it might, just this once.

* * *

Next was Philza.

Years had gone by, everyone growing up, starting their lives, moving on and moving forward, George’s memory never forgotten, but no longer dwelled on.

They were used to death. They knew what to expect from it, the humans knew that, eventually, it came for everyone.

Everyone but Dream.

Years went by, and Dream ignored the dread that lingered every second, waiting for whoever would be taken next, trying to prepare as much as he could.

He thought, for someone who had seen so much death in his life, who had lived through countless wars, and slain as many as he had, that he would be used to it by now.

But he never was. The cold shock of a soul leaving earth left him breathless and frozen each time, the thought of a life cut short echoing in his heart.

Phil’s death was quieter. Everyone had known it was coming.

He died in his bed, family surrounding him, Techno’s hand firmly planted in Phil’s as Wilbur sung quietly, Tommy (no longer the boy he once was, finally a man, hardened to the world he had grown up in much too soon) sat on Phil’s other side, eyes wet with unshed tears.

Phil smiled at his family, at his sons, and he shut his eyes, letting out a final breath before passing, calmly and quietly, surrounded by the people he had spent his life protecting.

The funeral was softer than George’s had been. There was none of the shock or pure grief the younger man’s death had inflicted. Instead, there was remembrance. The celebration of a life well lived.

Dream didn’t understand how they could celebrate a life, when all he could focus on was the unwavering want he still held for ending his own.

* * *

They lost Wilbur and Tommy together.

The two had gone out to the market, just planning on a short trip to grab a few items for the family dinner they had planned that night, everyone from the SMP showing up, getting together for one night of peace.

It was simple. It should’ve been so _easy._

But instead of the two men coming home with their usual banter, easy smiles gracing their faces as Tommy complained about how long they’d had to wait in line, only one of them showed up, drenched in blood as they gasped for breath, clutching the door frame as if it was the only thing keeping them alive.

And maybe it was, judging by the way Tommy shook in the doorway, eyes wide as he tried to speak, stuttering over his words as each sentence died in his throat.

“W-Wilbur fucking, he uh, fucking _shit-_ he got, fucking stabbed, and I just, there was another bitch, and he told me to run, and I just-”

Tommy was cut off by a wet cough, globs of blood landing on the floor in front of him as he met Techno’s eyes, tears mixing with the blood splattered on his face.

He collapsed, just barely being caught by Techno and lowered gently to the ground, head resting in his only brother’s lap as he coughed, blood trailing down his chin and teeth stained red.

“It’s okay Tommy,” Dream said, crouching down next to the pair, pressing a quick kiss to the younger man’s forehead, inhaling shakily as he saw the man’s shoulders slump slightly, “you did good.”

Dream held back a sob as he quoted the words that had been spoken to him so long ago, brushing Tommy’s hair back as he whispered.

“We have you, Tommy. You can rest now.”

Techno screamed as the life left Tommy’s eyes, Dream reaching out a shaking hand to gently shut them, letting the boy rest after everything he had been through.

Dream could hear Tubbo sobbing behind him, someone, probably Niki or Bad, trying to comfort him through their own grief.

Techno just sat there, tears streaming down his face as he silently raged, pulling Tommy closer to his chest.

Dream knew what he felt. He knew the pain of losing his entire family, of being the last one left, forced to live on without them. He knew how unfair it all was, how lonely it felt.

He placed his hand on Techno’s, rubbing small circles into the back of his hand as Techno wept, a silent promise.

Techno may have lost his family, cruelly torn from him years too soon, but at least, in this moment, he wasn’t alone.

* * *

Sapnap’s death had almost driven Dream over the edge. 

He looked down at the body of his best friend, skin pale and hair still damp from the water he had been pulled out of, and he was so close to giving in.

No matter what he did, death seemed to follow Dream. Why shouldn’t he give in? Why shouldn’t he go back to starting wars whenever he could, in an attempt to feel _something._

But then, Bad was pulling him closer, tucking Dream’s head beneath his chin, rubbing his back as he held the god, and Dream lost any of the fight that had begun to burn within him.

He clung to Bad, praying that if he kept him in his arms, the world would be unable to reach him, and Dream could stay there, in that moment, for the rest of time.

He shut his eyes, and prayed that maybe he would wake up, and everyone would be alive, and this would all be some sort of cruel joke.

His friends would still be with him, and Dream wouldn’t be forced to watch them get picked off, one by one.

Techno held his hand as Dream clung to Bad’s side with his other arm, offering him the same comfort Dream had extended during Wilbur and Tommy’s funeral.

Dream knew that, out of everyone, Techno understood Dream the most. They both had been raised by war, formed by the blood that had been shed around them, hardened into the warriors they were today.

Standing in front of Sapnap’s grave though, buried next to George, a couple of feet away from where Techno’s family rested, they could be weak.

Dream fell to his knees before his best friend’s grave, begging any of the gods he had long since lost faith in to let him take his place.

Dream dug at the dirt, trying to make enough space for him to lay next to the corpses of his friends, but Techno pulled him back, one arm wrapped firmly around his chest as Dream thrashed.

He was so close, they were right fucking there, hidden beneath the surface just out of his reach. They were right there, and Dream needed to get to them, to be with them, to lay beneath the earth next to them as he let whatever was left of himself rot with them.

It was supposed to be them, the Dream Team, together until the end. But it was unfair, how they got an end when Dream was forced to keep going.

It was supposed to be the three of them against the world.

But now it was just Dream, on his own, right back where he started.

* * *

Tubbo was next.

_(How had the two youngest, the two children he had sworn to protect, be gone already?_

_It was so fast, Dream didn’t know what to do. One second they were there, in front of him, smiling and laughing and living the long life that still rested in front of them._

_And now, here they were. Six feet under, their graves side by side.)_

It was an illness that had started as a cough, before growing into something worse. Something that stole Tubbo’s breath with each moment he kept breathing, coughs wracking his small, weak form, eyes clouded with fever as the sickness killed him from the inside out.

Dream had tried everything he could. He brewed potion after potion, tried to use whatever powers he had been given as a god in vain, prayed by the boy’s bed each night, reaching out to the gods he had torn himself from so many years ago.

Nothing worked though, and Tubbo only got worse.

He watched the boy deteriorate before his eyes, losing a piece of himself each day as he became less like Tubbo, and more like the illness that had claimed him.

Dream was helpless, offering only small comforts as Tubbo died, trying to make his passing as comfortable as he could.

He sang to him as he tried to sleep, skin burning with fever but body shivering beneath the multiple blankets he was piled beneath. 

Dream ran a hand through Tubbo’s sweaty hair, wiping away any stray tears that made their way down his cheeks, shutting his eyes as he coughed, body lurching forward with each one, small droplets of red staining the blanket in front of him.

He sang an old tune, something that hadn’t been heard for thousands of years, as Tubbo shut his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dream,” Tubbo said, his voice weak, gasping for breath after saying those three words.

“I know,” Dream said.

Tubbo’s hand went limp in Dream’s, and he couldn’t find it within himself to cry.

* * *

The death that shocked Dream the most was Techno’s.

Somewhere, deep down, he had wondered if Techno _could_ die.

He had hoped, a selfish part of him had whispered in the dead of night, that Techno couldn’t die. That he was like Dream, that they could maybe make it through this together.

But then Dream was being told by Bad that Techno was taken down in battle, a challenge too great for even the self proclaimed Blood God.

_(That title had stung. Each time it was whispered, Dream felt a pang of false hope spark in his chest._

_He knew. He fucking knew that Techno wouldn’t last, that beneath the masks and the personas and the ego, he was still just a man, and death would one day claim him as well._

_But there was still a small, childish part of him that clung to the hope that it was real._

_Dream shouldn’t have been shocked when he was proven wrong._

_It didn’t make it hurt any less.)_

Dream buried the man himself, staying up late into the night, shoulders burning as he dug the grave, never once stopping to rest.

He had all the time in the world, but this was something that couldn’t wait.

Dream gently laid Techno’s body in the earth, hands folded across his chest, eyes shut, crown placed gently on his chest.

Finally, the man who had been plagued with voices calling for blood, for war, for violence, every second of every day, was put to rest. Eternal sleep claiming the man, a final blessing from the gods.

Bad stood behind him, watching him silently as he shovelled the dirt onto the grave, neither man speaking as the sun began to rise.

He watched the final glimpse of the man disappear beneath the ground, nothing left but the dirt that covered him, and the memories he had left behind.

Dream stood next to Bad, holding his hand beneath the rising sun, tears streaming silently down his face.

He thought about everything Techno had become, had fought so hard to avoid becoming, and if he focused hard enough, he could hear whispers in the wind as he stood there and grieved.

_you’re never truly alone,_ said the wind, brushing gently against his cheek.

_i know,_ he called back.

Dream held Bad’s hand tighter, surrounded by the graves of his friends who had left him behind.

* * *

Bad’s death broke Dream.

He held the body of his friend, of his _brother,_ and he screamed, grief echoing as he sobbed, clutching the corpse close to his chest.

Dream’s tears landed on Bad’s face, trailing down Bad’s cooling skin, part of Dream praying that it would get a reaction, that the man wasn’t truly gone.

But sitting there in the clearing, clutching his friend to his chest, Dream knew.

Finally, he was alone.

He couldn’t make his way back from this. Dream couldn’t pick himself back up after this. He had lost too much too fast, he couldn’t suffer through it again.

Dream sat there numbly, the moon moving slowly overhead as he stared into the face of his now dead friend, no one left to comfort him, to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and tell him he would be okay.

He knew it was never true, whenever they held him close, whispering promises of being alright, of making it through.

He knew it was false, but he believed in the lie, for just a little while longer.

There was no lie. No sugar coated words, covering the harsh reality and the painful truth. No one to hold him and tell him he was strong enough to make it through.

Dream was alone, for the first time in decades.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he felt more than heard the presence behind him.

“Karl,” he said, throat raw from the tears that had been torn from him, voice as dead as the man held in his arms.

“Dream,” he said, voice calm as he watched the man in front of him.

Dream knew what he was. He had seen the man, and recognised him from times before. Decades ago, where Karl really shouldn’t have been.

They had never spoken about it, living in a peaceful truce, both aware of what the other one was, but neither one willing to address it.

_(Maybe Dream should have said something. Maybe he could’ve been spared all this pain, if he had spoken with the man before now._

_Or maybe this was inevitable. It was too late to find out now.)_

“Take me back,” Dream said, turning around slightly to face the man, still holding Bad tightly, eyes desperate as his mask sat discarded a few feet away, “I know you can do it, so fucking take me back!”

“Whoa, Dream, just wait a second, think about it for a minute-” Karl said, hands held out in front of him in a placating gesture, trying to calm the god down.

Dream kept going though, cutting off Karl as he spoke. “I don’t need time to fucking think, I’ve had enough time for one life,” Dream spat, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he stared at Karl, “I just want to see them again.”

Karl furrowed his brow, watching the broken man in front of him.

He looked so small, so tired. Nothing like the god he was meant to be.

His gaze shifted to the body clenched tightly in shaking hands, and Karl nodded, meeting Dream’s eyes.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said, raising a hand before Dream could respond, “but you gotta listen to me before we do this.”

Dream just nodded, meeting Karl’s gaze evenly.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “Alright, first off, I’m not gonna go with you, you’re gonna be on your own.”

Dream nodded again, showing Karl he understood.

“Second, it’ll be like all of this,” he paused, motioning to the world around them, “never happened. You’ll be the only one who remembers any of it.”

“That’s fine,” Dream said, shuffling closer towards Karl, “I don’t need them to remember. I just need them to live.”

Karl looked at him sadly, before nodding and holding out his hand.

Dream looked at the limb, looking back down at the body in his arms before gently laying Bad on the ground.

He would see him again soon.

“You can’t change your mind after this,” Karl said as Dream hesitated, “there’s no going back.”

Dream thought for a moment. He looked back at the graveyard they sat in, his friends all buried six feet below, and he made up his mind.

He reached forward and grabbed Karl’s hand.

And the world went white.

* * *

Dream woke up, squinting against the sun resting high in the sky above him, lifting a hand to shield his eyes.

He pushed himself to his feet, surveying the land around him.

It was the forest that bordered the land he had claimed, just as silent as the day he had first walked through it.

Dream looked around, took a breath of fresh air, air not yet tainted by the death or destruction this land had been doomed to in the previous timeline.

He made his way through the woods, heading to the land he knew so well, despite technically never having been here before in his life.

Dream took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment as he took it all in.

He _made it._ He was actually back here again. Everyone was still alive. He could do it all again.

_(He didn’t think about how he’d have to watch them all die again, the pain still as unbearable as it was the first time. But that’s years from now, and he has his whole life ahead of him.)_

Dream thinks about what he’ll do differently this time around. About everything he had done wrong last time. Everything he wanted to say but never got the chance, places he’d wanted to see or build, but never had the time.

Things would be better this time, Dream would make sure of it.

There would be no war, no pointless fights, no death plaguing their land, weighing heavily on their consciences.

_(Dream would still have all of the memories. He would remember the feeling of their blades sliding into him, cutting cleanly through flesh, drawing blood that poured down his body._

_He would remember taking their lives, killing mercilessly, as it was all he believed he was capable of._

_The memories would never fade, but it was okay._

_No one else would be plagued with them, and there was nothing a god couldn’t handle.)_

Slowly, one by one, just as they had in the previous life, Dream met his friends, his _family._

It was so difficult, not running up and hugging them as soon as he laid eyes on them all. He constantly had to remind himself that, right now, they didn’t know who he was. Currently, they were simply strangers, searching for a place to stay.

He wouldn’t have to wait too long though. Soon, he could pull each person into his arms, and cling to them like he used to, before they all moved on or left or died.

Dream watched his family grow, and he couldn’t help the pride that swelled up in his chest. This time, they would be a family from the start.

Tommy yells at Dream, taunts him, does whatever a 16 year old will do just because they can, and all he does is smile and laugh, gently shoving the teen before turning around and walking away.

The drug van is built, and Dream accepts it for what it is. He just makes sure that everyone involved is safe, not bothering trying to make them stop.

He gives them their land readily, encouraging the forming of their new nation, immediately requesting allyship between their neighbouring countries.

Wilbur agrees, and together, they form a new tomorrow.

Together, they avoid the war that had at one point seemed so inevitable. The constant threat looming over everyones’ heads, always lurking in the shadows, waiting for the final pin to drop.

They live in peace. There is no war, there is no conflict, there is simply them, living in their small pocket of the earth, thriving as they were always meant to.

_(Maybe Dream wasn’t destined for war. Maybe there was another choice. He didn’t have to strive for death, when life was so much nicer.)_

Everything was so good.

Until it wasn’t.

Disease spread fast through their land, taking people’s lives left right and center.

It came silently with no warning. One day, it was there, taking more than anyone could provide.

Dream watched his friends fall around him, succumbing to the plague that had ravaged their lands, fear and dread and anger all churning within him, still unable to stop it even as his power boiled beneath his skin.

The illness took until there was nothing left to take, and Dream was once again surrounded by the corpses of his friends.

He met the eyes of the time traveller, gaze hollow as he stared at the man, tear tracks long since dried on his cheeks.

Karl furrowed his brow, and, as if he knew what Dream was about to say, he held out his hand.

The world went white.

* * *

Dream woke up, his head pounding, the light blinding him as he forced his eyes open.

He was back in front of the woods, exactly where he had been the time before.

Dream dropped his head back onto the dirt path he rested on, closing his eyes and breathing for a moment, the silence washing over him in waves, clearing away the memories and the tragedy from the previous life.

It was behind him now. Dream knew what to prepare for. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

Dream pushed himself up, dusting his hands off on his cloak, and started walking, back towards the SMP.

He wouldn’t mess up this time. He could do it.

He had to try, if not for himself, then for them.

Dream pulled his mask down over his face, shoulders squared and face determined as he walked.

Nothing would stop him this time.

* * *

It had been a pillager raid the second time.

They came in the middle of the night, silent in the shadows, slitting the throats of anyone they came across.

Dream hadn’t noticed until it was too late, and rivers of blood stained their city streets, no one left alive to hear his cries.

He fell to his knees, legs drenched in his family’s blood as he cried, shoulders heaving with the force of the sobs.

Dream looked up, and across the street, Karl held out his hand, a look of pity present on his face.

He looked at Dream with his sad eyes, letting out a quiet sigh as blood dripped freely from his hands.

Dream avoided his eyes as he made his way to the man, boots stained red from the puddles of blood pooling in the street, and he grabbed his hand.

The world went white.

* * *

Dream didn’t know how many lives he had lived, each one ending in everyones death, no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

Whether it was disease, murder, old age, an accident, it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Dream couldn’t fucking save them.

He wasn’t sure how many times he had lived through this all. How many times he had introduced himself to the people he knew so well, probably better than any of them knew themselves.

He loved them just as strongly as he had in all the previous lives, each death weighing heavily on his mind.

_(He sees their broken, bloody bodies in his dreams. All of the deaths they had gone through merging into one final hell, tormenting him, taunting him with everything he was powerless to prevent._

_Dream can feel their blood on his hands as he wakes, gasping for breath as he throws the blankets off, sweat dripping down his face._

_There’s nothing he can do now though, so Dream wakes up, and keeps living until they stop, before he begins it all again._

_What’s worse, watching everyone you love die, and being forced to move on? To start again, with new people?_

_Or watching the people you love die over and over and over again, unable to stop it, only able to reset, knowing that no matter what you do they’ll still be doomed to fall yet again.)_

It’s been at least twenty loops by the time Dream breaks.

The last death had been one of the worst. Sapnap had been torn to shreds by wolves in the night, having gotten a bit too bold and a bit too silent, at the same time never silent enough.

Dream hadn’t waited for everyone else to die that time, he just frantically searched for the man he had become so dependent on, the only one who had been a constant throughout his lives, despite the fact that he knew nothing about the countless other times he had done this for Dream.

He had only been in this timeline for a couple of weeks before he broke.

Dream watched Sapnap crouch down, holding his hand out for a wolf to sniff, coaxing him closer with the scraps of meat held in his other hand.

All Dream could see what blood and torn limbs and flesh with bites torn from it, blood coating the grass and the trees and his face and his hair, and all Dream could think was _that’s gonna be a bitch to clean up,_ but there was no cleaning this up.

Dream fell to his knees, tears already streaming down his face as he gasped for the breath that had suddenly left him, clutching at his chest as he tried to force the memories back.

He could feel Sapnap and George on either side of him, asking him what was wrong, concern radiating off of them, Sapnap’s wolf forgotten as he rushed to his friends’ side.

Dream couldn’t do anything but shut his eyes and try to force back the onslaught of memories, visions of his friends, dying or dead assaulting him as he tried to push them away.

There was nowhere to run when the attack was coming from his own mind though.

Dream clung to his friends, chest heaving as he fought to regain control of his own mind, shaking beneath their hands, untouched by the wars of a previous life, familiar scars or calluses now long gone.

_(Or they were never there to begin with. Dream wasn’t really sure how it all worked.)_

“You died,” Dream said through his tears, voice scratchy but he forced the words out anyways, George and Sapnap silently listening, “you all died, again and again, and I kept going back, because I thought I could save you.

“I can’t. I never can. I’ve lived through this so many times. I know both of you better than you could imagine, but none of it is going to matter in a few years because you’ll all be dead and gone, and I’ll have to start all over again,” Dream cried in frustration, hands tugging at his hair in an attempt to ground him.

“It’s okay Dream,” George said, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, rubbing a thumb across the scarred skin hidden beneath the mask, “you’re okay.”

“We have you Dream,” Sapnap said, Dream freezing at the oh so fucking familiar words, “you can rest now.”

Dream buried his face into Sapnap’s neck, and sobbed.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all can take the ending however u want, either they finally figure out a way to all become immortal and they vibe, or everyone dies and dream starts the cycle all over again :)
> 
> i really liked writing this though aGDFBHFGBHFGNGH i basically wrote it all in one sitting, but i just physically could not stop
> 
> I really like how it turned out tho, so i hope u all enjoyed it too <33 if you did, pls consider leaving a comment/kudos bc they make me heart eyes
> 
> u can also hmu on insta @ caydiink if ur interested ;)
> 
> this one was for u nae kisses
> 
> thank u all for reading tho afdfhjdfbhjfg <333


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